The movie keeps yelling “party on the beach” while the story limps along like it’s trying to remember why lifeguards are suddenly doing undercover crime work. There’s a fun idea buried in there turning the sun-bleached TV icon into a self-mocking action-comedy but Baywatch can’t pick a lane, so it overcompensates with noise, needle drops, and jokes that feel two drafts away from landing. Even when the cast clicks, the film treats that chemistry like a pit stop, not the engine. | © Paramount Pictures
Calling it “mean” isn’t a critique so much as a content warning: the prequel angle to Malevolence locks you into a kidnapping nightmare and refuses to let up. The best parts are the grim, everyday details the rural quiet, the sense of time stretching, the way dread sits in a room before anything happens. Then it slips into repetition, leaning harder on bleakness than escalation, and you start feeling the runtime instead of the tension. Bereavement isn’t sloppy, just punishing in a way that doesn’t always pay off. | © Crimson Film
Inheritance paperwork has no business kicking off a Texas Chainsaw movie, yet here we are property deeds, secret relatives, and a plot held together with duct tape and screaming. The kills deliver the franchise basics, and the Texas grime is there, but the timeline logic is such a mess it becomes its own jump scare. When the film tries to pivot into “Leatherface as a warped antihero,” it doesn’t build the groundwork, so the tonal whiplash is almost comical. Texas Chainsaw 3D works as a loud slasher night, not as a story. | © Millennium Films
Greek gods, monster fights, and a cross-country quest should be an easy win, and you can feel the blockbuster instincts pushing every scene forward. The problem is how much gets flattened to keep the pace: Camp Half-Blood barely has time to feel like a world, and big mythology ideas turn into checkpoints. As an adaptation, Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief is the kind that makes fans grind their teeth; as a standalone teen fantasy, it’s breezy enough to stay watchable. You just keep sensing the richer version that didn’t make it onscreen. | © Fox 2000 Pictures
Tokyo nightlife, love hotels, and an expat teacher spiraling in plain view those ingredients create a sticky, late-night mood Lost Girls & Love Hotels nails more often than not. Alexandra Daddario plays Margaret with a restless edge that makes even quiet scenes feel like they’re vibrating, and the story’s best stretches let the loneliness sit without dressing it up. The romance with Kazu can feel thin when you want sharper connective tissue, but the melancholy atmosphere is the point, not a detour. The movie is messy, yet it’s at least honest about its mess. | © Blackbird
London tech ambition colliding with escort work is an icy premise, and season 3 leans into that chill hard sleek offices, data-driven intimacy, and relationships that feel like contracts with better lighting. Alexandra Daddario shows up as Tawny, a presence that adds friction and a bit of human mess to a storyline that can otherwise feel clinically “designed.” When it’s sharp, The Girlfriend Experience is genuinely unsettling in how it links power, sex, and performance. When it drifts, the show can start sounding like it’s more in love with its concept than its characters. | © Transactional Pictures
A disaster movie that treats California like a stress test for every bridge and skyscraper it can render, and it rarely pretends to be anything else. The set pieces hit the big, dumb buttons helicopters, collapsing streets, ocean surges while the dialogue exists mostly to move people from one spectacle to the next in San Andreas. Alexandra Daddario holds her own as Blake, especially when the movie gives her practical survival beats instead of forced sentiment. Still, it is the definition of loud entertainment: effective in the moment, forgettable the second the credits roll. | © New Line Cinema
A missing music producer, a friend who refuses to give up, and Los Angeles nights that feel both glamorous and isolating those ingredients should spark something electric. The film’s empathy is real, and Daddario (as Dana Lee) fits nicely into the orbit of exhausted creatives trying to do the right thing without the tools to do it well. There are scenes that land with a quiet sting, especially when the story lets confusion and guilt sit without forcing a clean lesson. But Lost Transmissions can loop the same emotional beat, stretching its search into a haze that feels more repetitive than haunting. | © Pulse Films
Getting kicked out by your parents for being non-binary is a brutal starting point, and I Wish You All the Best doesn’t soften that blow just to keep things “uplifting.” The heart of the film is Ben rebuilding a life from scratch, and the support that actually matters comes in specific, lived-in ways rather than grand speeches. Alexandra Daddario, playing Ben’s older sister Hannah, brings a grounded warmth that keeps the story from floating off into tidy fantasy. Some conflicts do resolve a little too smoothly, but the emotional core stays sincere. | © Ace Entertainment
One house, three eras, and a running thesis that betrayal doesn’t just break relationships it turns them into weapons. Why Women Kill’s best trick is how it swings between dark comedy and genuine bite without winking too hard, even when the plot starts piling on twists. Daddario’s Jade/Irene is a key part of the modern storyline’s chaos, and she nails the mix of charm and volatility the role needs to stay unpredictable. Not every turn is elegant, and the series can chase shock for sport, but it is viciously watchable when it’s on a roll. | © CBS Television Studios
Hair metal, cheap beer, and a road trip to a show in 1988 sets up the kind of grimy throwback thriller that should be pure pulp. Then the movie flips into a “Satanic panic” trap and asks you to enjoy the nastiness with a wink sometimes it works, sometimes it feels like it’s congratulating itself for being edgy. Alexandra Daddario is the main reason it stays watchable, leaning into the character’s charm-turned-threat in a way that keeps the tension alive even when the script starts looping. The twists arrive on schedule, the violence does its job, but We Summon the Darkness doesn’t have the bite to stick the landing above “fun genre night.” | © The Fyzz Facility
Bea’s childhood is basically a balancing act: loving parents, a messy support network, and the constant pressure of being the most capable person in rooms where she shouldn’t have to be. Wildflower earns a lot of goodwill by letting that complicated love exist without turning everyone into saints or villains, and it finds humor without making the situation a joke. Daddario’s Joy isn’t the centerpiece, but she adds a clean, believable note to the ensemble someone who feels like a real part of Bea’s world, not a “guest star moment.” A couple of emotional turns are a little too polished, yet it still lands as sincere, specific, and genuinely affecting. | © Morning Moon
The Blackwood house feels like a place where sunlight is optional, and the town outside it behaves like a jury that never left the courthouse. That’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle’s best weapon: an atmosphere so tense you can practically hear the judgment in every quiet scene. Alexandra Daddario plays Constance with a softness that isn’t fully safe warm on the surface, haunted underneath and the sister dynamic gives the story its uneasy heartbeat. Not every adaptation choice hits, and some of Shirley Jackson’s sharper edges get smoothed down, but the film still manages to be creepy in a slow, personal way rather than just “spooky.” | © Further Films
Rachel arrives in paradise thinking she’s on a honeymoon, then gradually realizes she might’ve booked herself into a life she doesn’t recognize. Daddario makes that unraveling feel painfully natural: the forced smiles, the little compromises, the way “being easygoing” turns into swallowing your own instincts. What elevates The White Lotus is how the satire hides inside normal conversation compliments that sting, generosity that’s really control, and wealth that acts like it deserves applause. It’s not subtle, but it’s sharp, and it knows exactly when to let the discomfort sit instead of rushing to a punchline. | © Rip Cord Productions
Season 1 doesn’t just look grimy it feels like the air itself is heavy, like every roadside conversation has a history attached to it. Daddario’s Lisa arc is brief compared to the central case, but it’s memorable because it exposes Marty’s self-delusion without needing a speech about it; the show just lets the mess speak for itself. The real reason True Detective belongs at the top is the full package: mood, performances, and a story that keeps tightening its grip even when it gets a little too in love with its own bleak poetry. It’s prestige TV with scars, and it still hits harder than most imitators. | © Anonymous Content
Alexandra Daddario’s filmography swings between big studio spectacle, sharp TV work, and a few misfires that never quite come together. That mix makes her career perfect for a ranked list: the best roles hit hard, and the weaker projects don’t deserve a free pass.
Here’s how her movies and TV shows stack up from the ones you can skip to the performances that are genuinely worth the time.
